To be continued
by kaitokitty
Summary: Originally known as "15 Ways to Die", stories which have nothing to do with death and everything to do with humorously dangerous situations. Featuring Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and cast of thousands.
1. Thunderstorm

Chapter One: To die for want of cleanliness

Disclaimer: Any and all references to Lord of the Rings belong to the Tolkien estate, I am merely a humble fanfiction writer and daydreamer.

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The rain poured down in sheets, as two dark silhouettes huddled together inside the castle, safe from the weather outside, but not from the impending doom they knew they were in for.

As one of them sneezed, thunder crashed outside.

And the world was silent.

For a while...

"I never thought I'd die this way…"

"We wouldn't _have _to die if you had just left well enough alone!"

"I did it for _your_ sake!"

"I never asked you to!"

"Come on, I did it out of friendship, you once trusted me with your life, my friend…mellon nin!"

"I…you…you've gone too far this time…"

"Please! Forgive me, find it in your heart to forgive me, before we are ripped to shreds by the inescapable doom that awaits us."

"I…I'm sorry, I can't forgive you…not this time."

As tears streamed down both of their faces, the doom came upon them, the door creaked open…

A candle was lit…

The two friends clasped each other's arms one last time.

"All right, Estel, Legolas, who took my shampoo?!"

And so it was, that the last hope of mankind and the crown prince of Mirkwood met an untimely death, slain by the hands of the fair Evenstar, who could not find her stolen hair product.

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Epilogue

"Funny, I never thought I'd die that way…" an ex-human king said in retrospect.

"We wouldn't have HAD to die, had you not touched her shampoo in the first place!!!" Legolas growled, being dead takes the cheer out of many people.

"…"

"…"

"So…did you think we'd die that way?

"I wasn't thinking about dying _at all_."

"…"

"…"

"Well, not many people die that way you know…"

"Aragorn, if you don't shut up, you're going to die again very soon."

"Sorry."

Fin

_1st chapter, and counting. Written by FC for ED._


	2. Unrequited

Chapter Two: To Die of Embarrassment

Author's note: This is told in the POV of an OC, don't be confused please.

Disclaimer: see chapter one

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She was beautiful.

Halfway across the room she sat from me, her long silky hair reaching halfway down her strong, graceful arms.

She didn't have much of a figure, but that was ok, she made up for it with her charming, mysterious musical voice, and her enchanting blue eyes. She was one of the fairer elves I had seen in my short life, so I was awed by her as she talked and laughed with her friends.

I wanted to talk to her, but she was accompanied by so many males already, that I didn't dare get too close. Nonetheless, I was still hypnotized by her beauty…

I noticed that she drank wine while the others around her chose to drink ale or beer, how elegant, I thought, choosing the finer points of life rather than the crude, simple alcohol that we ruffians would choose.

She turned her eyes toward me, and for a second, I was flying through the clouds on silver wings, once she looked away, my face reddened drastically, at how much more lovely and radiant she seemed, compared to me, a humble citizen of Minas Tirith.

After several more hours of this, I couldn't take it anymore…being a bystander was too hard to bear.

I stood up.

I walked across the pub, a walk that seemed to last an eternity.

Finally, I got there.

I knelt in front of the lady elf.

_My voice sounds so rough…unfitting for you to hear…._I thought.

"Pardon me…my fair princess…" I began, her cheeks flushed, _shy, modest, dainty…wonderful qualities for a wonderful lady. _"I...I couldn't help but notice you from across the room over there…I just wanted to say…you're beautiful…you're sweet, charming, you're anything a man could want." I took off my hat, I took one of her hands in mine…

and kissed it.

Funny, I thought her male friends would react angrily or violently… instead, they…they…

They laughed?

Nay, more like….cracked up and fell on the floor, tipping over tables, chairs, and each other. I couldn't figure out what was so funny, it must have been that these men were uncouth, rough, rude, and unused to acting like gentlemen…_poor lady, living among these rascals….how did she manage to keep her ladylike grace?_

Unfortunately, I wasn't paying attention to the object of my admirations until she tipped my chin towards her, she smiled.

She smiled a bone chilling, murderous, evil, horrendous smile that would make all the forces of Morgoth cower in fear.

_What wouldn't I give to see that smile everyday…_I thought, lost in dreams of my own…that was the last thought that entered my head before someone punched my lights out.

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I woke up in a rather well furnished inn in the middle of the city. According to the innkeeper, the lady and a couple of her friends (who seemed to be cracking up at random intervals because of something they found hilarious out of the whole situation…) dropped me off here and paid the bill for however long I stayed unconscious.

_Such a kind, caring woman she was…_I thought wistfully, _I wonder if I'll ever see her again._

And with that thought, I left the inn, heading home wondering if the enchanting angel I saw would ever appear again.

Epilogue

"I CANNOT BELIEVE THE NERVE OF THAT MAN!!!!" Legolas Thranduillion yelled for the hundredth time, it was a wonder how his fist didn't break from continuously punching the wall on his right. Actually, it was more a wonder the wall didn't crumble to dust with all the force he was putting into his punches.

He paused for a second when he heard some snickering behind him. He turned and saw his good friends the king of Gondor, the king of Rohan, and the dwarf all snickering quietly as they could behind his back.

"You…you really can't blame him, _Princess, _for falling in love with you so readily, maybe you can finally marry someone who can stand your elfish self." Aragorn said between snorts of laughter.

"Aragorn…" Legolas's tone was dangerous.

"No, you really can't, maybe it's your destiny to marry a mortal after all!" Eomer was in tears and clutched his stomach attempting to not laugh so hard; it wasn't working.

"You guys…" Legolas was steaming right now…was he actually…blushing?

"Nay, nay, I believe we should not make fun of our good elf friend here." Gimli stood up, and spoke in such a noble tone that said elf could not help but be touched. But he continued; "Legolas, my fair maiden, are you insulted by these savage men that surround you? Allow me to sweep you off your feet, if you would have me, a humble yet handsome dwarf." With that said, the three mortals were sent into uncontrollable peals of laughter, rolling around on the ground, slapping each other on the back.

That did it.

The volcano finally erupted.

And in the end, dear reader, you must decide, was it the man in the pub who died from an innocent mistake? Was it the three companions who died from a murderous and insulted elf? Or was it the elf who died of embarrassment? We may never know. Just mark my words, do not judge a person from his…or her looks; you may live to regret it.

Fin 

_Chapter 2 finished, 13 more to go! _


	3. Dinner

Chapter Three: To die of food poisoning

Disclaimer: See chapter two, that will hopefully lead you to see chapter one.

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Eowyn, the shield maiden of Rohan was known for many things; her strength, her bravery, and her fighting skills.

She, the one woman brave, courageous enough, to ride into open battle dressed as a man, the only one who could stand up to the witch king, the one who slew him, and then stole the heart of the steward's son.

Eowyn was famous, loved, and respected for many great deeds, skills, and talents.

Cooking was not one of these talents.

"Um…Eowyn dear, do…we…I…do we _have_ to eat this…food?"

"Of course, Faramir honey! I spent all morning persuading the cooks to let me into the kitchen, and all afternoon making dinner for you all!"

The steward and his wife had invited all their closest friends to a dinner party, the guests (Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Arwen, Eomer, and Imrahil) had all eagerly accepted their invitation and arrived as early as they could.

And most of them had been happy until they found out that Eowyn had insisted on making dinner.

Arwen of course, stayed supportive and encouraging throughout the whole thing, insisting that the others ate the product Eowyn's hard work (it was not lost on any of the others that Arwen had not eaten a bite of Eowyn's …food).

"Pass the…potatoes… Legolas…please."

"Those are potatoes? I thought they were…er…sausages…"

Aragorn and Legolas shared a look and began coughing into their napkins.

"Gimli, what kind of soup is this?"

"Soup? What soup? oh! You mean this lovely shoe polish Eowyn provided for us?"

There were now four people coughing into their napkins.

"Eowyn, dear sister...you really _shouldn't _have gone to all the trouble of making this meal for us…you could have just let the cooks do it…I mean, how long did it take you to make that roasted partridge?"

"Eomer, don't be silly! That's not roasted partridge! It's wintertime! That's chocolate cake!"

There was a long pause, and then everybody started coughing into their napkins.

Eowyn looked around in distress at everyone, they were clearly very uncomfortable, finally she realized what was bothering everyone.

"You really don't have to eat my dinner you know…" She began to say, Arwen was about to object when she held up a hand, "I realize how hard it is for you all to say this, and it was really very polite of you not to tell me…but now I know the truth of the matter."

"You all have horrible colds don't you? And you came to my dinner just to make me and Faramir happy! You really shouldn't have!"

An awkward silence ensued…Faramir muttered an incomprehensible excuse and left the table, while all the others were left speechless.

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Epilogue

Eowyn had insisted that they all go to bed at once, and had excused them from the table, she said that she felt terrible about making them all come over to Rohan with such serious colds. Gimli thought about mentioning the inability of elves to get sick, but thought better of it.

That night when Gimli and Legolas were alone in the room they discussed dinner.

"It was a good thing I held my tongue back there, or Eowyn might have killed you with her food."

"Nay, friend Gimli…if you hadn't held you tongue, I _would _have killed you with my bare hands."

"At least I didn't ask about the fried chicken."

Fin.

_Note: Everything that you don't know tastes like chicken. Unless you're Chinese… Ah well…third chapter and counting. _


	4. Flying Horses

Chapter Four: To add insult to injury

Disclaimer: See chapter five, which has not been created yet, but will surely be created soon, and most likely chapter five's disclaimer will lead you to chapter three, which will inevitably lead you to chapter two, which will hopefully point you to chapter one.

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Blood…blood was everywhere, I couldn't feel much of my body, and all that I could feel was in mind numbing pain. I had lost much of my common sense, and my hair was a mess. There were voices outside of the protective little ball I had attempted to roll into, plus, rain was splattering all over me and soaking me to the bone like…well…rain.

Somewhere in my muddled state I realized that these were not orcs talking, were orcs the ones who got me like this? I couldn't remember, not very nice of them though…orcs aren't very nice…

I remember lots of fighting, lots of struggling, lots of biting, yelling, kicking, punching, pulling, grappling, and…blood…blood was everywhere…oh Heavens…I'm repeating myself…

Anyway. I remember being attacked, fighting, killing, and then being half killed…

_Flashback _

I had been riding home from a patrol on the borders of his home when an arrow struck my horse; it shot through its muscle and practically ripped off its foreleg. I was thrown through the air and landed rather gracefully on my back, staring at the sky, wondering what my name was. Then an orc grabbed me, I, of course, being far too experienced in the fighting arts, twisted out of his grip, did a couple of impressive back flips, swung myself onto a tree branch (all the while dodging enemy arrows), and was beginning to take out my bow, when the filthy creatures catapulted my horse at me.

So there I was once again. Flat on my back, forgetting what my name was, forgetting where I was, and forgetting what the lack of pain felt like. Those vile beasts, hurting my horse like that…they were going to pay…except…I did not know where my horse currently was…after they flung in up there, I saw my horse flying, nay, soaring through the air and off somewhere into the central region of Mirkwood.

_Sigh _

_I really need to stay home more often. _

I despise orcs… never one to give up easily, I stood up (with a small amount of difficulty) and faced them head on. I drew out my bow and an arrow (Thankfully neither of which had broken) and managed to shoot twenty-five of them through the head in less than thirty seconds.

I had a pretty good count, until one of the rotten cheaters began throwing rocks at me…then they all charged at once, and… well…let's just say I'm not as good with a sword as I am with a bow.

I managed to kill off ten of them with my sword, but that was taking much of my energy, if only they would back up a bit, then I could show them who was boss.

These stupid orcs, they just had to bring arrows with them didn't they? The problem with orcs is that when they are shooting, they don't care whether they hit their companions or not, as long as they hit the elf they are trying to kill.

Anyway, said elf (me) was busily trying to save his own life when said orcs (them) shot me through the shoulder, my stomach, and even grazed the tip of my ear! Cursed, foul creatures they were. I really like that ear…

Yelling and cursing with all the language my father had taught me, I leapt at the orcs, and, half delirious with pain, I managed to kill half of one…I think…

_An hour or so later…_

I hate orcs.

Why do these evil beasts torment me so? It was enough that they already cut up, bruised, or bloodied every part of my being, why did they have to yell at me in their disgusting language too!? As if my ears hadn't had enough already…

I didn't know what they were saying at first, until they started speaking common tongue…something about…Thranduil…a pig…and…an idiotic hoarder of treasures?

…

Wait a minute…

They were insulting my father!

They were insulting MY father!

They were INSULTING my father!

They were insulting my FATHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NOBODY INSULTS MY FATHER.

Somewhere deep within me I found enough strength to pick up my sword, walk calmly over to the orcs, and blast them all to meet their maker.

I don't actually remember how long I was at it, but I remember lots of killing, and I remember that I was the one doing all the killing.

Somehow when I ran out of energy, I looked around me and there were about fifty orcs.

Fifty dead orcs.

_Wow…I wonder how that happened…_ I thought, before collapsing in a pathetic heap on the hard ground.

_If my father could see my now…_

_End flashback_

The voices were coming in louder now…I could here them saying some ridiculous things.

"Prince Legolas! Are you alright?"

_Of course I am! I'm always alright! Pay no attention to the blood and sweat, and..dirt…_

"We saw your horse flying through the air, and it landed in your garden, so we immediately came to look for you!"

_Don't be ridiculous, horses can't fly._

"Can you walk? We brought some horses and bandages, but we'll have to treat you at the palace."

_Treat me? Horses can't fly! You're all fired!_

_Sigh…_

_I hate orcs…_

Fin

_Fourth chapter!!! Borderline angst…but, we all need a bit of angst in these humorous stories sometimes! Eleven more chappies to go!_


	5. The Glass

Chapter 5: To die over a minor dispute

Set post quest, in Minas Tirith.

Disclaimer: See chapter four, which will lead you to chapter five, which should lead to chapter three, but it doesn't, so see chapter one as to not get confused.

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"It's half empty! Look at the top half; you can clearly see the empty space!"

"It is half _full, _how else do you explain the large portion of water inside?"

"It is half _empty."_

"Half _full!_"

"EMPTY!"

"FULL!"

This same argument seemed to have gone on between Merry and Pippin ever since they arrived in Minas Tirith. It had gone on for days now, restarting whenever they saw a cup half filled with liquid.

"It is half empty!" Merry would insist, with some strange reason that didn't seem to help his argument at all.

"Half full!" Pippin would reply, no matter how many times they used the same arguments; the two hobbits never seemed to tire. They annoyed many onlookers this way, but when questioned about it, they said that they had been inspired by Legolas and Gimli, the ever famous (or infamous) friends of the king.

Anyway, back to the current "discussion".

The hobbits by now had gotten rather heated up, and right when they were about to stand up and yell at each other, Frodo came into the room with a bowl of fried mushrooms.

"Hullo Merry, Pip! How are you two doing?"

Unfortunately, even the hunger of a hobbit can be ignored when the hobbit is fired up, even if the hobbit is fired up for no reason. As Merry and Pippin argued, Merry accidentally knocked on the glass of water, and it went flying…

…right into Frodo's mushroom bowl.

The water went all over Frodo, but half the glass shattered upon the mushroom bowl, sending shards of glass all over the poor snack.

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"Now look what you did, Merry! The glass is half destroyed!"

"It is not! It is half intact still!"

The two younglings were interrupted by a low growling in the direction of Frodo.

They were both startled to find that the low growling sound _was _Frodo.

If they thought _Gandalf _could be scary when he was angry…

Gandalf had obviously never seen the sweet natured, blue eyed little hobbit that they all knew and loved get so…

Menacing.

"You two…" He turned around and started in a low, foreboding tone, "have been continuing this long enough. If either of you…" Frodo turned around, showing Merry and Pippin a side of him they had never seen before; the wrath of the injured mushrooms.

"IF EITHER OF YOU, EVER EVER _EVER _SAYS _ANYTHING _ABOUT HALF FULL OR HALF EMPTY AGAIN, YOU BETTER START RUNNING, AND PRAYING." both Frodo's cousins found it amazing how his voice could be yelling, yet stay eerily quiet at the same time. And turning around, he stalked out the door and into the hallway, heading for the kitchen.

"Wow…I think we should ask Legolas how he deals with his father when he's angry…" Merry nudged Pippin, after he was able to move again.

"I know, Frodo's anger filled up the room so much that I thought I was half dead there for a second."

"Only half alive you mean."

"Oh leave off already!"

Fin

_Chapter five is finished! Ten more chapters to goooooooo!!!!!!!! Tell me what you thought! And I hope ED enjoys her _very_ extended birthday gift! _


	6. Is this what you call torture

Chapter six: To die laughing (or did I already use that title?)

Disclaimer: See...eh…these disclaimers are starting to get on my nerves…

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Perfect. Just, perfect.

This was a well known predicament.

Too well known…

Curse the Valar, or whoever up there thought this was funny! Too many times had he and Aragorn been caught in this situation, and too many times had they almost died. It was always the same! They would go out on a hunting trip, get captured, and get mercilessly beaten to shreds.

He glared up at the various torture weapons around the room. _Whatever you do to me, I won't break._

He glanced over at Aragorn, who returned a reassuring smile to him, which wasn't very reassuring seeing as they were both chained to the wall.

Two burly looking men entered the room. Legolas cringed at the fact that both of them had to duck to enter the doorway. He glanced at their hands. _If one of those men punched me, I'd fly halfway to Valinor… _He made a note to himself not to sound too stubborn when the _interrogating _began.

The first man had a fuzzy black mustache that covered most of the bottom of his face, the second was bald, and had almost no facial hair whatsoever. Legolas decided to call them fuzzy and baldy, respectively.

He was laughing inwardly at the idea that if he made it back to Rivendell alive, the twins would not appreciate his description of the torture. _"First baldy punched me, then fuzzy got out the whip, then baldy and fuzzy put on sadistic faces and started babbling." _He was playing it through in his mind when Fuzzy spoke.

"You two know something we want, and if you are not going to be reasonable and tell us everything you know, we will use whatever means necessary to extract the information."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, get on with it. Blah blah blah and yadda yadda yadda. I've heard it all before. I would like to get the pain over with please."

Aragorn shot him a very annoyed look, a look that both said "How could you be so stupid?! Do you WANT to die?!" and "I'll kill you if we get out of this alive."

The men, to their un-surprise, laughed sadistically. "We have means. Ways, _procedures, _to get information…"

_I wonder why they never tell us what the information they want is._ Legolas thought wryly, _I personally think they're doing this for the fun of it._

He was not so sarcastic anymore when the men stepped towards them, one near Aragorn and one in front of him. _Fuzzy gets Aragorn, and Baldy gets me. How fitting. _

"So, we will commence with the _interrogation._" Fuzzy cracked his knuckles.

"There's nothing in this room we haven't seen before." Legolas said, challenging and defiant.

"Oh, but who said we were going to use any of these _instruments?" _Fuzzy smirked. Legolas noted that Baldy didn't seem to talk much.

He focused his attention again on Fuzzy, "Do your worst. Or your best. Hardly any difference."

Fuzzy smiled evilly, and motioned for Baldy to begin. What he did however, took Legolas completely by surprise. Baldy shot out an arm and began prodding at his ribs. The elf was at first bewildered, never in his life had he been interrogated this way, but the thought was cut off as the sensation took over.

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Five minutes later…

The room was filled with howling laughter, but surprisingly, it did not come from the sadistic evil men that were the torturers, but from the two victims.

There were cries of mercy, hard panting, and much giggling.

Fuzzy and Baldy stepped back for a small minute. "Are you willing to comply? Or do we have to continue the _questioning_?"

Aragorn was dizzy and breathless, "You…you won't…get…anything…….."

Legolas was faring no better, his wrists were chaffed and bruised, and his mind seemed to be … well… woozy. He found that he could not find the right words to put into sentences, so his speech came out somewhat blurred.

"No information...Fuzzy…Baldy…worst. do."

Fuzzy and Baldy looked at each other with a malicious amusement in their eyes, and stepped forward once more.

By the time they were done, (Half an hour later) Legolas found that he had no longer the power to think properly, let alone speak properly, and saw that Aragorn was not much better off, his head lolled to one side and he had this stupid grin on his face as though he were a brain dead clown.

"No …(giggle)…no information…none…(hahaha)…from…(pant) me…"

The rest of the time became a blur, all he remembered was more tickling, and some brown haired elves bursting into the door, waving sword-like things about and yelling random words.

He hardly felt two look-alike brown haired …was it…River den? No…Rivellden? Something ridiculous like that…elves take him off the wall and lay him on the floor. Any physical contact they made with him however, sent him in to peals of laughter for some unknown reason. Everything tickled.

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Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other worriedly, questioning the blond haired elf's mental condition. It was one thing to be traumatized, but another thing to laugh uncontrollably when the torture was over.

"Hee hee hee, You…won't get any information from me! Hahahaha!" He was laughing and saying in a singsong voice while lying on the ground.

Aragorn had long since passed out from dizziness and lack of air. But still managed small chuckles now and then.

Elladan was getting concerned "Quick, El, get Adar."

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A week later…

By the time Lord Elrond had finished with them, they had spent three days in physical and mental therapy! Legolas was not pleased, which was ironic, considering he'd been laughing through most of the therapy.

He spotted Aragorn coming out to the garden to meet him. On his face was written ire and foreboding doom. _Good, that makes the two of us. _Legolas thought bitterly.

"YOU!!!!!" Aragorn stormed.

"Yes, Me." Legolas replied coolly, if not challengingly.

"you…you STUPID LITTLE ARROGANT …POINTY EARED FOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Legolas blinked. Was Estel actually BLAMING him for the incident? Blaming HIM?!

"IF YOU HADN'T BEEN SO PROUD, STUCK UP, AND …STUPID, WE WOULDN'T HAVE GONE THROUGH ALL THIS!!!

"EXCUSE ME?! WHO WAS THE ONE WHO INSISTED ON GOING ON THE HUNTING TRIP AT ALL?!?!!?"

Without another argument the two victims (who were feeling the aftereffects of torture) leapt at each other screaming bloody murder.

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After about ten minutes of wrestling on the ground, beating each other's sides, and pulling at each other's hair, both were very worn out.

"Truce?" Aragorn muttered weakly.

"Aye." Legolas said. Both collapsed on the ground, panting and sweating.

_sigh…_ _yessiree, another perfect end, to a perfect beginning._

Fin.

_Sorry for the long wait. This chapter is kind of confusing, because the ending isn't very well written, but basically it's like this, Neither Legolas nor Aragorn get much chance to be tickled in Middle Earth, so tickling is a rather new punishment to them, therefore they don't know how to resist tickling. After someone is tickled they usually feel a long quiet, as though they have run out of laughter, so the aftereffects of Aragorn and Legolas's tickling result in them getting very heated at each other. Well, I don't know if I explained it well, but you can send a message if you have any questions. Hope you enjoyed. Beta'd by ED._

_-FC_


	7. Tingly

To die of a skin irritant.

Disclaimers: see previous chapters

It was tingly.

Gimli was getting extreme shivering sensations all over his back and down his arms. He seemed to get this sort of feeling whenever he was walking in the forest with Legolas. Most forests were ok actually, but whenever they got near King Thranduil's realm he felt extremely uncomfortable. In fact, this happened everywhere he went that had elves in the general vicinity. He only recently found out that it was because of the intense stare of the firstborn. Elves could be very good at hiding, second only to a hobbit, in fact. But when they wanted to intimidate you, they really intimidated you. Being stared at by an elf who is good at his practice is similar to being poked with needles very quickly in every part of your body. And if an elf was staring at one particular spot on you very intensely, that part would probably burst into flame. At least, that was Gimli's theory.

"Legolas, can you please tell your flighty servants to cease this ridiculousness immediately? I have had quite enough discomfort, riding on this blasted horse all day long."

Legolas's response was just musical laughter, and a very insulting toss of his hair. Gimli sighed and tried to locate the sources of the tingling, burning stares he felt all around him. It would be worse when they got to the Elven King himself, he knew from experience. Thranduil's stare was akin to being strapped to a mast of a ship during a hailstorm, and being struck by lightning while being stung by millions of invisible flying ants. In other words, it was not very pleasant.

Gimli spotted some slight movement on a tree a few feet away from him and tried his best to return the stare. A few minutes later, his eyes were sore and he thought he heard some snickering from the trees.

"Ah, Gimli, I'm afraid you'll have to postpone your staring contest to another time and prepare to meet my father, for we are nearly there." Legolas's cheerful voice interjected. Gimli scratched his back a bit, finding that the skin was slightly irritated from being stared at so long. Thankfully they had reached the gate, and Legolas was instructing it to open. All the tingling gradually faded away.

* * *

"Hello Gimli, son of Gloin, it is a pleasure to welcome you inside my halls once again. From what _little_ I have heard from Legolas," King Thranduil gave a pointed look at his son, "I hear that you two have managed to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time."

Gimli felt the tingling again, and was finding it very hard to concentrate on the king's words. He muttered back as politely as he could "Uhm. Yes, Legolas has managed to plant… quite a few…"_ Must resist urge to scratch head_… "…trees, here and there, and…" _Mahal, is my hair on fire? _"…and I've placed a few…well placed…" _My eyeballs are drying out._ "…rocks…"

It was getting a bit out of control, and Gimli was readying himself to throw himself on the ground and scratch his back the bestial way, when Legolas thankfully intervened.

"My Lord, I will show Lord Gimli to his room so he may bathe and prepare for supper." Legolas excused both of them with a bow.

"Very well Legolas, you may see to it." The King nodded.

The moment they were out of the King's courts and into Gimli's chambers, Gimli immediately began removing his armor and thick outer layers of clothing. He had not been able to assess the damage in public, but now that he was in the privacy of his own chambers he could not wait any longer. He stripped off his tunic and began looking over his arms and shoulders.

Legolas was watching this with a confused, yet slightly amused face. "Does aught ail you, son of Gloin?"

"You know perfectly well what ails me, you … you... you elf!" Gimli shouted, for lack of a better response. He was pleased to see that his arms seemed to be in good condition, and tried to look around for a mirror so he could examine his back better.

Legolas laughed again, his cheerful and musical voice would have been more welcome if it was not quite so cheerful or musical. "I see it must be some sort of mental ailment, for that is the least biting insult I have ever heard from you. Soon I shall rival the Lady Galadriel in your affections."

"Be quiet and help me look for a mirror, fool elf, I need to see if any of your pin eyed kinsmen have set fire to my back while I was unaware."

The elf raised one eyebrow, "Your back is certainly not on fire, or I probably would have let you know by now. However now that you mention it, the skin on your back seems to have some sort of rash. Do you have an allergy of some sort, or perhaps you encountered a skin irritating plant? Though I don't know how it would have gotten into your shirt through all the chainmail…"

Gimli scoffed, "An irritating plant! That is well put indeed! You are the irritating plant you crazy elf! You and your crazy friends have been burning holes into my skin all day just by staring at me!"

"That is preposterous Gimli. Had we any such ability do you not think I would have used it a lot more while we were on the quest?" Legolas said, placing a hand over his heart in an all too earnest gesture.

"That means nothing elf, you did not know the affect it had on mortals at the time, for you had little contact with them and instead sought to irritate me in other ways." The dwarf grumbled, "Aragorn does not count because he has had practice, and his skin has become tough over years of your incessant pricking."

Legolas's face became serious, "I apologize, Gimli. I hoped to give you a warm welcome here and did not realize the extent of your discomfort. I will be more careful from now on."

Legolas's demeanor seemed to change like the wind, and Gimli shifted a bit uncomfortably, "Well, it was warm in a sense, but nothing a cold bath won't fix. I didn't mean it that way elf… just … Bah! Just see to it that my bath is cold will you?" He grumbled, turning around to unpack his luggage. He scratched his back subconsciously. He was opening his main travel sack when he realized he was still scratching and the itch had not relinquished. A sudden realization came to him and he turned around fiercely just in time to catch a glimpse of blond hair disappearing out the door.

"LEGOLAS!" Gimli's voice boomed and echoed down the halls of the Elven King's palace. However the sought after elf by then was safely tucked away in a large tree, chuckling to himself about his newfound discovery.

-End (for now)

A/N: Gimli gets his revenge later on. No worries. Also let's all sing happy birthday to ED who is turning seven this year! (jkjk I've just been neglecting this fic for so long that the chapters I owe her are increasing exponentially. I don't think I will be able to pay off this mortgage and may have to sell some of my few earthly possessions in order to make it up to her, does anyone want 1) some used pens, one or two don't have caps, 2) scissors, 3) a Kleenex box. PM me if you're interested, I'll take the highest offer.)


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